


Faith's Haircut

by regenderate



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regenderate/pseuds/regenderate
Summary: “I want it gone, B. I just want it all gone.”--Buffy cuts Faith's hair. Entirely self-indulgent fic about Faith realizing her butch identity, basically.





	Faith's Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this, since it feels sort of personal and only in character for my specific headcanons of these characters, but I haven't posted anything in a while, so I figured I might as well put this up. Also, no one's written much that isn't spuffy or a weird crossover in, like, months, so I guess I have to fill the void. Updates on chaptered fics coming soon, kids. I promise.

“I want it gone, B. I just want it all gone.” 

Faith was sitting in front of the mirror in their room, putting her hair up, taking it down, putting it up again, and taking it down again. 

“I’ll make you an appointment at the hairdresser’s,” Buffy said, glancing at Faith from where she sat on the bed, reading some gossip magazine or something.

Faith turned to Buffy. “No, B. I’m not waiting a week for some hairdresser to attack it with clippers. I just want it gone.”

Buffy got up and stood behind Faith. She pulled Faith’s hair back and looked at the reflection, considering.

“I can cut it,” she decided. “How much off are you thinking?”

Faith hesitated. “As much as you can.”

“Okay. I’m going to grab some scissors, okay?”

Faith nodded, still fussing with her hair in the mirror. Buffy left, and a moment later was back with their only set of scissors and a towel, which she draped around Faith’s shoulders. She stepped back again and looked at Faith. 

“We should do this in the bathroom,” she said. “Tile floors are much easier to vacuum and much less likely to hide bits of hair for the rest of our natural lives.”

Faith looked down at the admittedly hair-colored carpet and nodded. “Okay.” She stood, keeping the towel slung around her neck. She started for the bathroom, then stopped and turned to Buffy. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m no stranger to impulsive haircuts.” The smile on Buffy’s lips made Faith feel almost entirely better. “I’m not saying it’ll be cute, but it’ll be gone.”

“I’m years past cute.” Faith leaned forward and kissed Buffy. Their hands joined, fingers entwined, and then Faith pulled away and looked at Buffy, whose eyes were full of love and understanding.

“Let’s get your hair cut,” Buffy said.

Faith nodded, and they went into the bathroom. Faith jumped up onto the counter, and Buffy adjusted the towel and moved in with the scissors.

Faith closed her eyes and let herself have nothing but the sound of the scissors and the feeling of hair falling from her head. She had wanted this for so long, longer than she had even known she wanted it. She opened her eyes to see her ebony locks lying on the towel, longer than she had thought they’d be. Buffy’s stomach was in front of her, and from what Faith could tell, Buffy herself was half-perched on the counter trying to get a better angle or something. Faith laughed a little, and Buffy jumped down to look at her.

“What?”

“Just-- you doin’ this. You’re so determined to get it right, and-- and-- you love my long hair.”

“I can love it short.” Buffy ran her hands through Faith’s half-short hair. “Can I buzz it so then it’s super fuzzy?”

“You have clippers?”

Buffy shook her head. “But one time Xander told me they’re cheap.”

Faith laughed and wrapped her arms around Buffy, resting her head against Buffy’s chest. “I kind of love you, B,” she said.

Buffy kissed the top of her head. “If you want me to finish cutting your hair, you’re going to have to let go of me.”

Faith obliged, rolling her eyes. “I thought I was supposed to be the touch-hating one.”

Buffy was already halfway on the counter again, her scissors in Faith’s hair. “Too bad,” she said. A few more locks of hair fell to the counter. 

Ten minutes and lots of little adjustments later, Buffy stepped back and nodded. “You can look.”

As Faith turned, the scraps of hair fell off of her towel and onto the counter, and off of the counter and onto the floor. When she saw herself in the mirror, she gasped. Her hand reached up. It dipped a couple of times where she expected to find hair and instead found nothing, but then her hand met softness, and she smiled. She looked good. She looked  _ powerful _ .

“You like?” Buffy asked.

Faith turned back around and slid off the counter. “I love.” She pulled Buffy to her, bringing her in for a kiss. She interrupted the kiss with a smile, though, when Buffy’s hands ran through her hair.

“Damn,” she said, leaning back and looking down at the floor between them, strewn with scraps. “We’re going to have to clean all this up.”

“You know,” Buffy said, cheerfully ignoring the chore, “I think I like you butch.”

“What, I’m butch now?” Faith asked. 

“Aren’t you?”

Faith thought for a moment, and then smiled. “Yeah, sure. I kinda like that.” She ran her hand through her newly short hair. “You okay with it?”

“As long as you’re still hot, I have no reason to judge,” Buffy proclaimed. “And, yes, you’re still hot.” She smiled at Faith. “I’m going to go get the broom.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> when did faith become my self-insert? who knows


End file.
